


Bittersweet

by Lucifendi



Category: Layton Brothers: Mystery Room, Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminals, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Romance, Slow To Update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:21:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27168562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucifendi/pseuds/Lucifendi
Summary: He liked his tea too strong.She tasted on his lips every time they kissed, the bitterness overclouded her senses and it was almost unbearable had he not been so maddeningly addictive.And soon so was bitter tea, to the point her own mugs where nearly too strongAnd yet.There was always the hint of sweetened coffee in the background.[AU - Alfendi's ciminal and Lucy's set to catch him. Just your average cliche]
Relationships: Lucy Baker & Alfendi Layton, Lucy Baker/Alfendi Layton
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> short prologue - i think only 850 words? but other chapters will be longer :) 
> 
> also slow updates because of school, especially during November
> 
> constructive feedback always appriacted - pls be brutally honest when needed

The sound of footsteps filled the air, echoing off the warehouse walls as Lucy Baker stepped forward, a gun held firmly in her right hand. She knew wouldn't use it. She knew who had orchestrated and been the main lead in this heist, thanks to his knack of flaunting his success with blood red roses, the word scribbled somewhere or a picture of them drawn. Even up to whole bouquets of the damned things, flung in every corner and mocking those who found them. Mocking her. 

Alfendi Layton, the mastermind behind it all. The son of the world famous Professor Hershel Layton, who although hadn't been seen for around ten years, probably wouldn't be please to find his son robbing jewelery stores and museums. She had all but engraved the face in her mind, the curled red hair that framed his face and fell messily across it, usually pulled into a loose ponytail, and that pitying smirk that seemed to be glued onto his face. 

She was pulled from her thoughts, realizing she'd hit the end, her hand resting on the cold metal wall. "I know you're there." she spoke out into the near darkness. 

Silence.

And then a chuckle rang out, followed by slow claps. "Excellent deduction, miss Baker." His voice was both as charming and as cruel as ever, and Lucy turned to face the tall man, raising her head to stare firmly at him, the only light from the flickering bulb falling behind him. His eyes glanced at her hands and he sighed. "Do put the gun down, we both know you don't have it in you."

He was right. As usual. She may be a courageous young woman, but harming or even killing others crossed a line her kind nature didn't allow. But that didn't mean she would admit to him, and her hand tightened around the gun. Alfendi shrugged and made a comment about her trying to look tough. "Is there any point in me even trying to arrest you?" She muttered to herself, watching his smug smirk appear once more.

"None at all."

They both knew how this plays out. They throw jabs at each other, the mild flirts thrown in as well. And then she fails to get him, or he escapes the handcuffs and police cars. Heck ,he'd even escaped prison more than once. She knew he only let them take him to taunt them, to ridicule their incompetence. It was so cliche it was painful, and she was so tired of it. "Just.. just go." 

He raised his eyebrows in suprise. "The Lucy Baker, giving up? This is unheard of, most our endings end with you yelling promises to catch me."

"I'm just tired today, don't think I won't catch ya next time." she warned sternly, pointing the tip of the gun under his head. For a second it seemed as though relief washed over him, covered by yet another teasing smile.

"Oh I highly doupt it, my dear Baker." he laughed at her glare. "It would be a shame to give up our little meetings, I do love them so."

"Aye, I know you do. You just can't resist to gloat your spotless crime."

"Only gloating for your attention." He swiftly grabbed her left hand and pressed it to his lips, enjoying the red blush that coated her cheeks before he dropped her hand. 

"But you know... why don't you catch me?"

"What?"

He turned to meet her gaze. "You know what I mean. You always know where I hide, I make sure of that. You could easily get help, you've had so many tries." He moved closer towards her, and she found her legs too stiff to move back. A soft hand titled her face upwards. "So why don't you?"

"Because.." She found her thoughts slipping with his face so close, no matter it had happened once or twice before. "Because I know you'll only escape?" she paused, as though she had to convince herself of this fact beforehand. "Don't want to make myself look like a fool."

He chuckled darkly. "That's a lie and you know it." He leaned forward and she found her eyes slipping shut. "Maybe it's because..." She felt his breath on her lips, and heard her heart in her ears.

Only to snap her eyes open three seconds later as she felt her gun being torn away from her now weak grasp, and seeing him run off at the speed of light, but not before sending an almost flirtatious wink in her direction. She swore at him loudly, feeling herself much too dazed to truly run after the man, and instead stumbling backwards and leaning her back against the wall, closing her eyes. "That stupid theif gives me tachycardia." She muttered crossly, hand over her heart.

Why didn't she call for backup? The question rolled around her mind as she regained her breath and dignity, excuses and logical reasons filling her thoughts. It wasn't due to anything but lagistic or practical reasons. It couldn't be.

Right?


	2. Oh, You Clever Little Things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !! Please be aware this chapter contains themes of abuse.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Lucy groaned at the constant noise of the tap, pulling her body towards the sink, despite the feeling of wading through syrup, and harshly tightened it shut. Another case, another run in, another failure. She wasn’t a thirteen-year-old girl who gets all giddy over the school boy she fancies, so why did he make her heart race in that immature way? She insulted him mentally, his over confident smirks and teasing winks. It was foolish. It was ridiculous.

When she’d first been placed on the team to catch him she thought Hilda’s long rants where a bit.. dramatic, but two years later and she found herself rather inclined to agree, and a sense of comfort she wasn’t alone in the feeling. Even if it was for differing reasons. She’d heard too many long talks about the past, how he had once been a student at the same Sixth-Form-College and even University as Hilda, and how he had ‘toyed with her only to drop her after the eleventh date and two nights together!’ and her grudge now ran deep. In Lucy’s case however... she shook her head, refusing to admit her attraction to the man.

And even if she did? He was a murderer. Even if he insisted he only killed the bad, like some pseudo Robin-Hood, it was still lives being taken. He’d stirred up a whole debate on ethics in Scotland Yard, on if he was truly a criminal. Take the recent one, somehow the mad man found cold proof the victim was physically abusive towards his poor wife, and placed said proof in a neat file by the corpse. Surely the ‘victim’ was an awful person, yet murder is murder. Lucy’s head ached, and she detached it from her mind, instead moving away from the sink. The clock read ten to midnight. Far too late, at least to Miss Baker, and she began to hurriedly get herself under thick sheets.

* * *

“Goodmorning, Lucy!” A woman on a chair, a drip attaching her to a IV and long black hair framing her face.

“Mornin’ Florence!” The detective called out, rushing past to her office. Despite her recent promotion to detective, and now having her own office space, she still felt the need to be there bang on the dot. She flung open the door, chest heaving for breath as she half heartedly closed it behind her. Three new files, all stacked neatly. No doubt one would be a further in depth file on last nights victim, she’d only had a passing glance through it’s contents.

Fling back into her the chair and opening it, she skimmed it once more. It seems the man was known as Jeremy Blackshaw, a middle aged man around fifty-four. His wife, Matilda Blackshaw, turned fifty a few days prior. Mr Blackshaw was discovered at 21:09 by the caretaker, who was going round the warehouses and closing up. The body was still warm. Cause of death seemed to be multiple blows to the head, and signs of struggle and a fight was clear. He had light cuts from a knife on his arms and face, followed with a bruised cheek. A few boxes that once contained now smashed plates where near him, it may have been the weight of these all tumbling on him as he sent backwards in the fight that ended his life. Police called at 21:15, arrived at 21:31.

And of course. There was a rose at the scene of the crime.

Then came a note on Lucy following him, and what she had informed them of. (Skipping over the teasing way his face drew close to her)

Lastly the evidence he provided. A camera that belong to the wife, audios of drunken yelling and clear abuse, photos of bruises and cuts. Notes from diaries, the man had it all collected and metaphorically wrapped with a neat bow. Lucy sighed, there was not much left they could do. Calls had been made outside of work, the wife had backed up all the proof, and simply said a man came to her house, telling her he knew of the abuse and he could help her if she gave him all legal proof she could. The woman had been saving it for when she gained the strength to try fight a law case, with her son backing her up, but obliviously getting out of abuse is easier said then done, and she feared the worse if she failed. She seemed happy in a way, and confirmed she was starting a new chapter in her life, getting the help she now needed.

She marked the file read, and placed it to the side. Two cases, both murder ones. Should be simple enough.

She powered up the reconstruction machine, and began to go through the files slowly, her mind slipping back to the red rosed menace and his cruel smirk.

* * *

"W-who are you?" The woman's voice trembled with fear, backing into the corner of the room. Her cheeks were covered in tears, that seemed to never end. Her hands were shaking, her breath quick.

"I know your secret. I know whay you did to him."

"What?" She screamed as the figure lunged forward. "No! No get away!" Her voice fell out in harsh sobs, ending in a yell as she felt a sharp pain in her stomach. Her body slumped and she whimpered like a drowned puppy, watching her world fall to black.

Before it did she heard him speak harshly. 

"He was only seven. You monster."

"..."


End file.
